


exactly as he said

by ryuuzaou



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Drinking Contest, Drinking Games, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Partying, i had other plans for drunk togami but they didnt happen, shrug shrug shrug i did my best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8048827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuuzaou/pseuds/ryuuzaou
Summary: Togami takes a breath and gulps down his shot. Naegi sighs, but he mimics the action. The liquid tingles, but not much. He narrows his lips and frowns at Togami, who’s blinking quickly and a bit tightly, which has Naegi very, very curious.“So,” he says, pushing the empty glass to the bartender, ready for a refill. “Do you really wanna play this game?”
  aka: the one where Togami is a lightweight and turns out to be a very flirty drunk.





	exactly as he said

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transharry (fortyfiveangrycats)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortyfiveangrycats/gifts).



> i started writing this like. 400 years ago. by that i mean like 2 or 3 weeks ago but heck i done did it kids

Togami hosts a lot of parties.

It makes sense. He has a lot of space in his apartment (what a shock), can always get his hands on alcohol (what a surprise), and can manage to throw the best party just about anyone’s ever been to without even _really_ trying (shock and surprise!). Everyone who’s anyone goes to Togami’s parties, as cliché as that sounds. He only tells about five people that he might have a party, which is code for ‘will definitely have a party,’ and then it becomes a game of who-can-be-invited-by-someone-who’s-been-invited-by-someone-who’s-been-invited. Being invited to one of Togami’s parties can suddenly bring out the conceit in people, so while it sounds easy to get in via this invited-by-invited-by-invited system, it’s quite difficult. When all your classmates begin kissing the ass of someone that looks more put-together than usual, you know immediately that Togami is hosting a party.

Naegi doesn’t like parties that much. He doesn’t _mind_ them, he just wouldn’t go if more than one person didn’t ask him to. In this case, it’s Ishimaru, who almost always receives a direct invitation from the host himself (most are convinced that it’s because Ishimaru lets Togami get away with more than others so this can be the case, but Naegi thinks Togami actually sort of likes Ishimaru as a person). Ishimaru invited both Naegi and Oowada, who didn’t know of the former’s invitation, and invited him. Knowing that Oowada likes to drink, and that Ishimaru sometimes has a habit of following Oowada’s advice to ‘just let loose,’ Naegi agrees. Someone has to be a designated driver, and it may as well be him.

By the night before the party, three more people have invited Naegi. He hasn’t even tried to be invited, and never has. In fact, he hasn’t ever _been_ invited to a Togami Party before, even though he’s known that they’ve occurred. Maybe he did something without realizing it? Maybe someone important said something nice about him? He has no idea, but he’s agreed to go five times now, so there’s really no way out of it.

The day of the party, Asahina drops herself down next to him in the library at around five in the evening. She places a chocolate muffin in front of him as she takes a large bite of her own donut. Naegi barely looks up from his textbook to pick off a chocolate chip to try. Asahina’s ponytail blocks a paragraph of his reading, though, forcing him to look up to where she’s dangling her head in front of his face.

“Are you going to Togami’s party?” she asks, the moment they make eye contact.

Naegi sighs. “Yeah, I’m driving some people.”

“You don’t sound all that excited, Naegi,” Asahina remarks, frowning at him.

All he can do is shrug. “I’m just… I don’t know. I don’t like parties that much.”

Asahina’s frown turns into a knowing grin far too suddenly for comfort. She twirls the end of her ponytail around her finger and rocks back in her chair. “You don’t like parties, but you _do_ like Togami, right?”

Naegi chokes on his muffin. He’s so, so grateful it’s a solid, because he would have spat out a drink all over his book. Unfortunately, this reaction just proves Asahina’s point, but he still makes an attempt to backtrack. “W-well, I mean, he’s okay, but he’s really arrogant and stuff, and we haven’t really talked much or anything—”

“You can’t fool me, my darling Makoto,” Asahina says, a hand to her chest. “I’m the queen of hooking people up, so trust me, I’ve got you covered tonight!”

Naegi shushes her hurriedly, looking around to check if they caught anyone’s attention. They didn’t, but he still whispers when he says, “Asahina, don’t, I’m serious, it’s a bad idea trying to get Togami to do anything. Plus, even if I _did_ like him that way—which I don’t—hell would freeze over before he’d want anything to do with me romantically. In fact, I still have doubts about platonically.”

“He hates Fukawa, but that doesn’t stop her,” she points out.

Naegi runs a hand through his hair and feels it jump back into its natural, obnoxious cowlicks. “I’ve never had much luck in the dating scene. You know that.”

“Tonight’s the night that’ll change!” Asahina hops to her feet and kisses his head. “Trust me, I have a secret weapon.” She bids him a ‘see you tonight’ as she skips away, to where Oogami waits at the door.

Naegi checks his watch, then returns to his muffin and book.

 

* * *

 

 The passengers are out of the car before Naegi has even turned off the ignition. Ishimaru, Oowada, Maizono, and Hagakure clamor out of his car (how they managed to find space for everyone, he’ll never know). The apartment complex gives a formal, expensive hotel feel, with a front desk and a fountain in the lobby. A key is needed to use the elevator, so the concierge has to buzz up to the apartment owners for permission to allow the guests entry. It’s a secure system, and also a huge goddamn hassle. But apparently, Togami had informed the concierge of his party, so they just had to show their school IDs. Naegi asked, and the concierge had been told to buzz up to Togami for anyone that wasn’t from their school. It seems like a sound way of sorting out party crashers, Naegi thinks, watching the elevator’s screen count up. _23, 24, 25… 34._ The five step out when the doors open. There’s a lounge-like area, with two doors on either side, each with a nameplate and number on the wall beside it.

 _Two apartments per floor?_ Naegi thinks, trailing after the others as they go to knock on Togami’s door. Going by the size of the lobby, each must be huge, and at this level they must be some of the most expensive apartments in the building. There’s, what, three floors above this one? The reality of Togami’s wealth takes Naegi by surprise. No wonder everyone wants to go to his parties.

Someone that isn’t Togami has opened the door for them, and music they’d barely heard through the door blasts them the moment they step through the threshold. Naegi thanks the girl that let them in—Celestia, he thinks her name is. When someone offers him a drink— _holy shit is this a hired caterer?_ —Naegi flashes the ‘DD’ he’d scrawled on the back of his hand. They smile, nod, and move on.

This isn’t like any party Naegi’s ever been to. Of course, the only parties he’s been to have been hosted by university students as broke as he is, with solo cups and paint-thinner vodka. Everyone had been clumped together with nowhere else to go, because _most_ university kids can’t afford half a damn floor’s worth of apartment.

The first thing Naegi does is claim the stool at the end of the bar (the bar. Togami, a university student, has a _bar_ in his apartment, _and_ a bartender) and pull out his phone. He texts Chihiro, whose anxiety kept them home, even with an invitation. Their replies are instantaneous, so there’s no awkward three-minutes-of-nothing between texts. So here he is, not drinking, not socializing, not _partying,_ texting his friend that’s doing all he wants to be doing: playing video games at home.

He doesn’t notice when Asahina perches on the stool beside him until she pushes a shot  toward him. Without looking up, he holds up his hand to show the marker.

She scoffs. “C’mon, Naegi, I know you’re shockingly heavyweight. Just have one to loosen up a little.”

Naegi frowns at her and locks his phone. “No. If I’m driving, I’m not going to drink.”

“You’re so responsible,” Asahina whines, like it’s a bad thing. “Nobody’s going to wanna go home ‘til way later, so you’ll be fine by then!” She pushes the shot closer to him. “You know you wanna!”

Sighing, he gives, taking the glass (plastic, actually, just made to look like glass) and downs it. It’s high quality liquor, leaving a citrusy taste as it glides down his throat. He shakes his head a little, huffing, and then raises an eyebrow at Asahina. “There. You peer-pressured me into it. Me, a designated driver!”

“You’re trying to guilt me, but it’s not working. I’m quite proud of myself!” she chirps, straightening her spine and puffing out her (impressive) chest. “But I’ll be even prouder when I get Togami to take a few of those, too.”

It’s Naegi’s turn to scoff. “From what I hear, Togami’s famous for staying sober. No way you’ll even manage to get him _tipsy._ ”

Suddenly, there’s an arm around his shoulders, and he’s being pulled off his stool and dragged toward the main room. “Then it’ll be amusing to watch her try, hm?” Kirigiri says, guiding him near where Togami stands, looking bored as someone talks at him. Naegi is internally questioning where the hell Kirigiri works out, to the point where he misses the beginning of what Asahina says to Togami to get his attention.

Once she has it, though, all eyes are on her. Getting Togami’s full attention practically deserves a medal, but Asahina is the type of person to draw attention whenever she wants it. Naegi had no idea that included Togami. Whatever she’d said must have had something to do with him, because he catches Togami dart a glance his way. Naegi’s blush comes as quickly as Chihiro’s messaging replies, and he averts his gaze so quickly it’s _definitely_ suspicious.

But this is how he’s been able to deny it for so long. Avoiding Togami, never making eye contact, changing the topic whenever someone starts to talk about him. If Naegi keeps all outward signs of Togami away from him, then maybe he can deny his thoughts and feelings. Which he doesn’t have. Because he refuses to have a crush on Byakuya Togami. He _refuses._ There’s enough people vying for his attention as is, people much more impressive and worthy than him, so what’s the point? It’s like having a celebrity crush: longing for something as slight as a wave, even though you know that the chances for an interaction as simple as that are the same as making out onstage dancing the tango.

But Togami just looked at him, _right at him,_ and Naegi hadn’t even done anything interesting. He shifts on his feet, praying someone bursts into the bubble that seems to have formed around them shouting _“Who’s up for some body shots?!_ ” But a few seconds pass and there’s no such interruption, so Naegi just keeps his eyes directly on his shoes and regrets coming to this stupid party at all.

Two shoes are in front of him, then, black fancy leather like what you’d wear to a wedding or something, and a hand is on his shoulder guiding him toward the bar, and all Naegi can think is _Togami Byakuya is touching me. Togami is making physical contact with me. Togami could kick the shit out of me and I would probably thank him._

“Sit,” Togami says, doing so himself on one of the barstools. Naegi does as he’s told, leg jittering and eyes darting from the bartender to the glass counter to the seat Togami is on to the left of Togami’s head to _literally anywhere but Togami._

“Your friend told me you don’t think I can hold my alcohol,” he says, like they’re in court and he’s making a statement. “She hinted that I should take it as a challenge.”

Naegi immediately finds Asahina in the crowd. She’s grinning, leaning against Oogami as she flutters her fingers in a wave in his direction. Asahina’s been drinking with him before. She knows what he’s like when he’s drunk. She absolutely did this on purpose. This must have been her ‘secret weapon.’

Shots are placed in front of them. Naegi looks up and finally meets Togami’s eyes. “This is—I mean, I just really think this is unnecessary, don’t you?”

“I do not back down from challenges.” His eyes are fierce and piercing and Naegi wants to stare into them forever but _damn it Makoto chill out with the gay._

“Drinking contests are never a good idea,” he tries again, “and I’m a designated driver.”

Togami waves a hand. “I have at least five on standby. Now, are you going to drink or not?”

“I’m really not the kind of person to do this sorta thing.” Naegi’s edging on desperation now, but Togami just scoffs.

Then he takes a breath and gulps down his shot. Naegi sighs, but he mimics the action. The liquid tingles more than what Asahina talked him into earlier, but not much. He narrows his lips and frowns at Togami, who’s blinking quickly and a bit tightly, which has Naegi very, _very_ curious.

“So,” he says, pushing the empty glass toward the bartender once more. “Do you really wanna play this game?”

The news of Togami and Naegi partaking in a drinking game has spread through the partygoers, and they’ve attracted a crowd. Naegi spots a few of his close friends, ones that have seen him drinking: Asahina, Ishimaru, Oowada, Kirigiri… their expressions are identical. Expectant, knowing full well the outcome of this situation, and impressed, as to the fact the situation is happening at all.

Togami notes this. Naegi sees it in the tiny crease between his eyebrows when he glances at the crowd. He looks unfocused for a moment, then turns back to Naegi. Their eyes are still locked when he calls, “Another.”

Even reaching for their shots, neither looks away. Togami appears to hesitate ever so slightly as he lifts the glass to his lips, so Naegi does the same, and they down them at the same time. Quietly, Togami hisses, watching Naegi for some sort of reaction that he doesn’t get.

Naegi doesn’t get drunk. If anything, he gets a little more confident, a little less self-conscious, but nothing more than that. Apparently, Togami is unaware of this fact, and is becoming very annoyed by Naegi’s lack of tipsiness.

“Okay, we’re done,” Naegi states, pushing both the shot glasses to the bartender. “This is ridiculous.”

He rises from his stool, but then he’s grabbed by the back of his hoodie and pulled backward.

Onto Togami’s lap.

Okay, wait, hold on. That happened way too quickly. Better take it step-by-step.

One: Naegi stands up. His feet hit the floor. He begins to take a step.

Two: Someone—this someone apparently being Togami—grabs his hoodie. Tightly.

Three: He is yanked backward.

Four: The angle is just right for him to land precisely on the lap of a one Togami Byakuya.

Returning to the present: Naegi is very, _very_ red, and Togami has the most impressive bedroom eyes he has ever seen. And he’s seen some decent bedroom eyes.

_Holy fucking shit._

This thought is echoed by what sounds like a few partygoers, at least, the ones that stayed after Naegi called off the game. Probably because he is literally sitting on Togami’s lap, and is probably the first one to have been _pulled there._

Togami has always been untouchable. By everyone. There has not been one instance of someone spending the night with Togami. Nobody even makes it up, because it’s useless; everyone would know it to be a lie. Togami has never shown signs of affection, just indifference to all those around him.

And now his arms are around Naegi’s waist, holding him on his lap against his chest.

“I didn’t know you were a lightweight,” Naegi says conversationally. His cheeks are becoming redder by the second. He’d say he could feel it in the heat of his face, but there’s currently heat in every, _every,_ part of him, so that wouldn’t be a good reason. No, he knows his cheeks are reddening because it’s just what happens when he thinks about Togami in _that way._ Although normally, it happens slower. Because normally, it isn’t actually happening. Normally, it’s all in his head, in his locked bedroom, with his own hand on his thigh.

There is nothing ‘normal’ about this situation.

One could take the ‘his own hand’ bit and ask, hey, it might not have been _Togami’s_ hand, right? He’d have to shoot that right down, because yes _, yes,_ god damn it, it _is_ Togami’s hand on his thigh.

Inner thigh.

Did he mention that part? Because, yeah, inner thigh.

“I am not a lightweight.” For a lightweight, Togami’s lack of slurring is remarkable.

Another remarkable thing? Togami’s thumb just barely stroking Naegi’s waist, with _just_ enough pressure to mean _something_ . Naegi’s not quite sure what that something is yet, because he’s not one to jump to conclusions, especially conclusions he wants to be true. So he’ll just call it _something_.

The sense of this _something_ strengthens tremendously when Naegi tries to stand again, but is held in place by the arm around his waist.

Glancing at the few people watching them, Naegi jokes, “I may have had a few drinks, but you’re way more likely than I am to fall on my ass when I start walking.”

Togami leans in, _something_ in his icy eyes when he says, “You, nor I, need to be sober to conclude why we are in such a position as this.”

“Stop talking so fancy when you’re drunk, it’s weirding me out,” is all Naegi can find the words to say. In front of an audience, at least. “Now let me go so I can get you to your room.”

Someone calls out a suggestive _oooo!,_ but Naegi knows the only thing that will happen in that room will be Togami having a glass of water and getting his shoes off so he can sleep. Not even Togami himself can sense this, however, as his eyes glint with that same _something._ He stands and walks them both to his room. Naegi looks back, catches Kirigiri’s ‘ _I’m psychoanalyzing you for funsies’_ eye, then is whisked around a corner.

Togami’s bedroom—a place Naegi never dreamed of getting into, not even _in_ his dreams—is spacious and simplistic. It isn’t as large as Naegi expected. In fact, it’s relatively small compared to the other areas of the apartment. A sloppily-made queen with green-gray sheets and five pillows (two matching the sheets, two just barely off-color, the last some sort of flannel) is centered on one wall. There are nightstands on either side, with identical lamps on the glass of both, and it’s thanks to one of these nightstands that it’s obvious what side of the bed Togami sleeps on—the door side. The nightstand closer to the door has an alarm clock that looks sleek and expensive, a few empty glasses that were probably water, and an eyeglasses case. There’s a desk, a large bookshelf, and a bureau in another section of the room.

Naegi is guided to a seated position on the bed while he’s still taking in the interior design. When the mattress bounces slightly beneath him, he starts, glancing up to Togami. His hair is ruffled, his glasses slightly askew, his shirt collar wrinkled. It is, frankly, one of the cutest things Naegi has ever seen. And he volunteered at a young animals’ shelter for a while.

Togami opens his mouth like he’s about to speak, but Naegi steals the silence away first: “I wanna know something. I bet tons of people challenge you to drink, right? So I have to ask, why me?”

“You don’t _have_ to ask,” Togami mumbles, but clears his throat as he loosens his tie. “I may or may not have been attempted to, ah… to impress you.”

Naegi can’t stifle the quick laugh that bubbles out. “Impress me? Jeez, Togami, everything you do impresses me!”

“Don’t be a kiss-ass,” Togami snaps, narrowing his eyes. “I deal with enough of those by the hour and _you’re_ the only one…” He pauses, searching for words. “You’re the only one that never has. My presence tends to attract attention, the attention of just short of everyone in my line of sight, but it’s… I don’t recall it ever being you.”

There are a few things that Naegi gets from those words, including Togami noticing him, Togami paying attention to him, and Togami being self-conscious because _Naegi_ doesn’t look at him. He has a good reason, though, he does!

Every time he looks at Togami, his heart does this weird thing where it skips beats, his stomach becomes a professional gymnast that specializes in flips, his knees become unreliable, and he wants to stop and stare at him for the rest of all of ever. So he made sure to make a point to _not_ look at Togami, because the symptoms listed above are uncomfortably similar to the feelings that one would feel when they have a crush. A huge, massive, gay crush.

But he can’t say that to Togami, can he? That’d be an awful answer. ‘Haha, don’t worry, I don’t look at you because it reminds me about the fact that I might maybe be in love with you, wanna throw down another shot and also our pants?’

No way.

Although…

 _No,_ Naegi, _no_ way.

And then Togami’s little finger crosses over his own, and suddenly he’s speaking.

“Have you ever considered that I don’t look at you _because_ I’m so impressed with you? I mean, everything you do seems totally perfect any way you look at it, everything _about_ you seems totally perfect any way you look at it, and it’s, shit, I don’t know, it’s _blinding._ I don’t look at you because I _can’t_ look at you. When I see you, all the feelings that I’ve been trying to get rid of for so long resurface all over again and that kind of really sucks because I know there’s no chance they’ll ever be reciprocated.” Naegi takes a long breath, pointedly staring at the wall opposite Togami.

Togami sighs.

Alright, here it comes. Time for the death of all that is everything. His world will be completely ruined, because he just confessed to Togami Byakuya. They’re at a party, though. That has to count for something, right? It has to. He’s drunk. In the moment. It was a dare. Maybe it’ll even become a ‘what happens at a Togami Party _stays_ at a Togami Party’ situation.

Again, he sighs, then raises two small bottles of vodka Naegi hadn’t seen him grab to his lips and pours them both into his mouth at once. He coughs, but the damage is done; the empty little bottles fall and roll across the floor.

Yikes.

Naegi stares wide-eyed at Togami, watching him grimace at the taste and strength of the alcohol. After a few moments, Togami blinks, then slowly turns his head toward Naegi.

“Y’know,” he says, tone lacking its usual underlying pomposity, “I’ve always been fascinated by you. And I fuckin’ _hate_ it.” He shifts so his body is facing Naegi. “I hate it,” he repeats, “because I… _hate_ things that I don’t understand. They just, y’know, piss me off. Fuck ‘em. Which is why… why I… uh…” He pauses, as if lost for words.

“You hate things that you don’t understand...?” Naegi prompts, desperate to hear the end of Togami’s drunken rant.

The aforementioned drunken ranter’s eyes go steely and focus on Naegi. “I do not understand why I am so fascinated with you, and I fear it has to… to do with…” He crinkles his nose. “A _crush._ ”

They’re both silent, gazing into each other’s eyes.

Then, Naegi laughs. Togami begins an indignant protest, but Naegi holds up a hand to stop him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t be laughing,” he says, though his grin doesn’t fade in the slightest. “It’s just—I’ve had this huge crush on you for almost three years now, and I always just ignored it because I thought you’d never notice me. That I’m too ‘plain’ for someone like you. Hell, no one even knew if you were interested in dating at all.”

“So what made you laugh.”

“I don’t know,” Naegi admits. “Could be ‘cause of all those school dances I was too scared to invite you to, or ‘cause of all the dates I planned but never took you on, or all the time I spent in my room thinking about you and knowing you’d never do the same about me—”

A hand is on his cheek, then, urging him to keep his eyes on Togami’s face. His breath smells of fruity vodka when he whispers, “There have been so many times that I lied here thinking of you, it’s pathetic. And I thought you didn’t care about me whatsoever, which… which I think… which I think hurt more. Because this is a petty little crush and nothing will come of it but it still… it still made me feel… so complicated? And confused? And… damn.” Togami curses, glancing down at where their little fingers are still curled together. He completes the puzzle, slipping his fingers between Naegi’s as though they were always meant to be there and _god,_ that sounds _so fucking cheesy,_ but that’s all either can feel.

“I’d like to kiss you,” Togami says, after a considerable amount of silence.

“Okay,” Naegi replies, leaning forward.

But Togami pulls him up, onto his feet, and though the former stumbles, he leads Naegi out of his bedroom and into the main room, where a good amount of guests still linger with their drinks and games and chatter. At first, Naegi assumes that he’s here for another drink, and he grabs Togami’s arm to stop him from getting any closer to the kitchen, but then he’s spun quite quickly, to the point where he loses his balance, and stumbles against Togami’s lithe form. And then, _holy fucking shit,_ they’re kissing.

It’s a beautiful thing, Togami’s lips against his, and he lingers for a good few seconds longer than he should have before pulling back and taking a look at their audience.

Which is just about everyone.

Super duper.

“He’s just drunk,” Naegi calls, with slick lips and red cheeks. “He’d probably kiss anyone in my position, ha ha, ha.”

“I wouldn’t,” Togami defends, sounding incredibly offended by the very _idea_ of kissing someone other than Naegi. “I’d only kiss you. I know no one else worthy.”

“He’s just drunk,” Naegi says again, but it’s much less convincing when Togami starts pulling him by the collar back to the bedroom. “I’ll just—I’ll just make sure he’s asleep in bed, and all that, and—”

The door closes in front of him before he can finish. While he’s startled, Togami takes the opportunity to gently push him backward onto the mattress (which is by _far_ the most comfortable piece of furniture Naegi has ever rested on and truly hopes he’ll be able to again) and crawls up after him, knees on either side of his hips as he unbuttons his dress shirt.

“T-Togami, you’re drunk, we really shouldn’t—”

“Relax, I’m just getting comfortable.” He takes off his belt and slacks, leaving him in regular boxer-briefs (what had Naegi expected? Silken undergarments? Goddamn). When he’s finished, he drops his weight onto Naegi and pursues a lazy kiss, which Naegi provides.

A few minutes of tired, slightly drunken kissing later, Naegi draws back only enough to ask, “So wait, what’s happening?”

Togami takes this free moment to lift the blankets up from beneath them and then toss it over both their lying forms, then presses himself against Naegi. “We’re going to lie here and kiss, and perhaps fall asleep doing so. If not, we’re going to lie here, kiss, and then fall asleep. If I’m lucky, which I always am, you’ll be here in the morning, probably scolding me in that unbearably endearing way you do for drinking too much without water, et cetera, et cetera. You’ll probably attempt to make me breakfast, fail, and sheepishly suggest we go out. You’ll want to go to a diner, but I’ll take us somewhere much nicer than anywhere you’ve ever even eaten a formal dinner. You’ll probably order something like ‘just hashbrowns and, um, scrambled eggs, please,’ because you’re too afraid of the prices to even look at the menu.” He yawns. “I’ll find the entire situation irresistibly charming, and you’ll ask if it’s our first official date, and I’ll say yes, and ask if it wasn’t obvious when I did this.” He surprises Naegi with a bite to his neck, followed by a tender kiss. “And you’ll get that ridiculous, sappy smile once you realize that we’re officially dating.” He kisses Naegi, on the lips again this time. They draw it out before Togami pulls back again. “That, Naegi, is what’s happening.”

Naegi can’t find any words except, “Cool.”

It goes exactly as Togami said it would.


End file.
